


Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

by EmilliaGryphon



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, I love smaug, I will be the only one in the thearter crying in sadness over his death, Smaug - Freeform, Thorin Okenshield, bilbo, stupid bard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:07:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilliaGryphon/pseuds/EmilliaGryphon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written because I wanted to read a Hobbit fic about Smaug/Bilbo that didn't have to do with sex or a Sherlock cross over and I couldn't find one. An elderly Bilbo Baggins makes a stop on the way to Rivendell to visit Lake Town and remembers a few moments of solace that happened between himself and a dragon as it sank into the water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they  
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,  
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.  
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
-Dylan Thomas

He almost forgot the Desolation of Smaug, but now; all these years later he was reminded of it again. The screams, the fire, the smoke: the chaos which that evil had wrecked upon the people of Lake Town. Such an evil Bilbo was sure would never see again. He had be wrong, evil once again plagued the lands of Middle Earth. But that was in Frodo’s hands now. 

I should have listened to that worm. He thought with amusement as he stood on the long rebuilt dock of Lake Town. Yes it was out of the way, but Bilbo only thought it was right to stop here before going to Rivendell. His journey would soon end, it was fitting he should pay one last visit to where it had all began. Once again Bilbo Baggins took his eyes from the sky and instead peered down into the deep dark waters below. It was said that long after his demise, certain treasures had appeared floating in the water. A silver plate, a golden cup, a diadem here, a scepter there; long lost treasures from a long lost world that the water had dislodged from the decaying body of the dragon over time. Still they were only small things and Smaug’s entire underbelly had been coated with many more treasures. Bilbo sighed to himself, stifling a small laughter.  
It seems the old drake held on to some of his horde after all. 

Bilbo looked onward into the black liquid which lapped so unseemly against the wooden peers. Down there somewhere amid that black abyss, the bones of Smaug the Magnificent lay. It was also rumored that for months and even years after he sank below, the color of the Long Lake was hued with the deep red of dragon’s blood. If he looked closely even now, he could make out the red stain against the wooden docks which the water had left. Maybe it was only the wood itself, exposed to years of pounding by the waves. Or maybe it was Smaug’s blood after all. It wouldn’t have surprised Bilbo in the least. Smaug was a formidable creature, one that not even the Black Arrow of Bard could fell. Sure it was told that the dragon met his fate by that barb, but Bilbo was perhaps the only one in Middle Earth who knew the truth. Smaug died in three ways. One was the arrow which pierced the hollow in his left breast. The second was the blood that had poured out of him, and thirdly the creature had drowned; crashing into the lake when at last his mighty wings gave up their ceaseless fight. 

It was that third part of Smaug’s death which Bilbo had witnessed  
.  
When Smaug lay waste to the town in all of his fury, the hobbit had panicked, running blindly out of the mountain where the rest of his companions held up. He had infact run right into Lake Town itself, and amid the running, shrieking people, he had found himself on this very dock.

In his long years Bilbo Baggins had forgotten many things about his life, but this was one thing he would never forget. Standing on the dock amidst the fire and brimstone he was paralyzed with fear and could only watch. He watched as Smaug flew with power and grace breathing his deadly breath across the entirety of the land. He watched as Bard’s arrow flew through the air and disappeared into the dragon’s chest. Bilbo’s ears never fully recovered from the shocking blast of the cry that was the last of Smaug’s rage and surprise. He trembled to behold the great beast falling like a stone through the sky, the black clouds looking as though they were straining to catch their benefactor. The dragon then fell into the lake and blood surrounded him as splinters of houses and ships fell apart. Bilbo had managed to take refuge on a floating piece of wood and was startled out of his skin when Smaug managed to heave his head out of the water and onto the very same piece of drift wood. 

Bilbo had starred wide eyed at the dying dragon whose wings and tail thrashed, adding even more destruction. But Bilbo hardly paid mind to that, what he saw first and foremost were the dragon’s golden slitted eyes. They were still so fiery and full the vengeance of a thousand men. He approached Smag slowly, trembling. If facing the dragon in his horde was the most terrifying thing the hobbit had ever done, Bilbo was sure this was the most terrifiying thing he would ever do in this life or the next. It was probably the most ill-conceived notion as well. Bilbo fell to his knees beside Smaug.  
“Theif…” The dragon hissed. Though breathy and weak, his words haunted Bilbo to his core. A sick smile escaped from the dragon, “So this is to be my end? So be it. I have destroyed this city as a king would destroy his kingdom before they rebelled against him. They will long remember who is king here, once and always. I will never be forgotten.” Bilbo could not remember why he reached his pale wet hands up to touch the dragon’s face but he remembered that Smaug’s scales felt cold and hard. It was upsetting and the poor hobbit's hands had shook quite feverishly. 

“No you shall not, oh Smaug the Magnificent,” he whispered in a sinking tone. Saturated with disappointment hued with the slightest hint of regret. True that Smaug was of an evil heart and had done no good deed in his life. But he was the last great drake of the north, that much Bilbo had learned and to bear witness to the death of a great and ancient race such as his was humbling to say the least. By this point Smaug’s body had begun to sink below the consuming waters. In his eyes Bilbo could see the life fading and the panic of that realization manifesting. His fingers tightened their grip, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that if he held onto the beast just a few moments longer he could restore him body and heart. 

“Beware burglar, there are some treasures that even dragon’s do not dare horde.” Smaug gasped, one great eye rolling to look at Bilbo. The hobbit furrowed his brow,

“Whatever do you mean?”

“That ring in your pocket barrel rider! Did you not think I would not know the ring of power when I saw it?” Smaug said in a thin voice. Bilbo opened his mouth to say more but the mighty dragon’s bulk sunk beneath the waters, his head snatched from Bilbo’s grasp slipping under the eternal chilling waves. 

The dragon’s eye remained open and gleaming for moments after his body sunk downward. It was the last thing Bilbo saw before he himself felt very dizzy, his scenes overwhelmed. Everyone knows the story which occurred after that. The battle of five armies, the death of Thorin Okenshield but now a new story was about to begin. One which would seal the fate of Middle Earth, the story of another hobbit, a ring and a wizard.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that I didn't get the timing down exactly to have Bilbo be on his way to Rivendell already before the ring is destroyed but oh well. The title of this was inspired by the poem (of the same title,) by Dylan Thomas.


End file.
